“You should. They’re fantastic.”
After making sure I had everything I needed, Trey went back to his guitar, although I would have been just as happy if he’d stayed with me while I ate. As it was, I found it hard to concentrate on J. K. Rowling’s words. My gaze kept straying over to the young man with the long black hair. He was slouching in his chair, his dark locks sometimes obscuring those gorgeous eyes (which were pale blue) as he looked down to find the right chord. I got the impression from his starting and stopping that he was composing something, creating a new song right there as I ate. None of the other diners seemed to mind his strumming. Maybe they were used to it.
I dawdled over my breakfast, and by the time I took my last sip of coffee (which Trey had refilled twice), nearly all of the other tables were empty. Only one guy and I were left, and he was perusing the local newspaper, every now and then sharing remarks with the lady behind the counter. He called her Gloria. She emerged occasionally to clear a table, glaring at Trey as she did so. I gathered busing the tables was his job, and he was neglecting his duties to concentrate on his playing.
Trey seemed to be adding words to his tune, and he sang as he plucked the strings. His voice was thin and reedy, but it suited the tune. I couldn’t hear all the words, as he was singing quietly, but I caught enough to know it was a love song. A love gone bad. The story of my life. Every now and then I’d catch a line or two.
“It’s a small town, baby,” Trey sang, “but why’d you have to give me these small-town blues?”
The woman, Gloria, seemed like she wanted to give him something, namely a smack. She’d been wiping some gunk off a recently vacated table, and she turned to him, hands on her hips. “If the next Bruce Springsteen is quite finished, maybe he could start on that stack of dishes in the back.”
“Almost done.”
“I’ll give you almost done. Trey Ramsey, you’re the laziest son of a bitch I’ve ever known. Now get to work.”
Trey looked up at her with a cheeky smile. “I’m not lazy, I’m inspired. Honestly, I’ve got to get this last verse fixed in my head. Then I’ll get to work.”
Gloria sighed with exasperation. “Okay, but just make sure everything is ready by the time the lunch crowd gets here.”
“Sure thing, Ma.”
So Gloria was his mother. That explained why she was putting up with his procrastination. She went back behind the counter and through a door to the kitchen area. Trey saw that I’d followed their conversation and winked at me.
“Some people just don’t understand artists,” he said. I gathered from his tone that he was gently mocking himself, as if he didn’t think he deserved the title of artist. I begged to differ.
“I liked what I heard,” I told him. “It was lovely.”
“Yeah? You think? I’ve been saving my dough, and when I get a few more songs ready, I’m going to book some studio time and record them.”
I smiled. “I’d buy it.” Was I flirting? Oh my God, I was flirting!
But why shouldn’t I flirt? I was single now, after my emancipation from Kevin.
Trey leaned back in his chair so that it was perched precariously on only the back legs and gave his guitar a few more strums. “Better than the last piece of shit I wrote, anyway. Had a great title, just didn’t come together, if you know what I mean.”
“What was the title?”
“The Penis Conversations.” His eyes were twinkling, and his smile was crooked as he waited for my reaction.
I laughed. I hadn’t done much laughing lately, and the sound almost frightened me. I cut it off and said, “That’s some title.”
“Yeah, well, the little bugger has a lot to say.” Trey moved the guitar aside so he could look at his own crotch. “Don’t you, you bastard?” He propped the guitar against the wall and settled the chair back down on four legs. “Anyway, it was a song about my last boyfriend and how he fucked me over.” Trey emphasized the last three words, even adding syllables to the word
fucked
.
Beautiful. Gay. A musician. And he read. I’d have to stay away from Trey Ramsey or I’d fall in love with him, and falling in love wasn’t on my list of things to do, not for a long time yet.
His mother returned from the kitchen, looking harried. Still with the rag in her hand that she’d used to mop the tables, she pointed at Trey. “Work,” she said. “Now.”
Trey winked at me again as he stood up. Turning to his mother, he presented an attitude of mock obeisance. “I’m all yours, milady.”
“Well, milady requests that you wash those dishes and help her get lunch ready.”
“When are you going to hire another slave?” he asked as he reluctantly made his way back to the kitchen area.
“When I can find someone fool enough to work here,” she replied.
I found myself raising my hand as if I was a kid in a classroom. “I’ll take a job, if you’re serious.”
Both Gloria and Trey turned to stare at me. “You’re joking, right?” Gloria asked.
“Not really. I could use a job.”
It was true. I had some savings, but extra cash could come in handy. Plus, I didn’t know how long I could stay at the Raven’s Rest. I’d have to start searching for a place to live if I was going to make Banning my home.
Gloria Ramsey broke into a smile. “When can you start, and what’s your name, you angel?”
BY LUNCHTIME
I was feeling pretty good about this new life. I was now employed—on a part-time basis—and now that I’d seen it in the light of day, I decided I liked the town of Banning. Granted, there wasn’t a lot to it. It boasted only three fast-food chains, which was probably a good thing, but there were several little mom-and-pop places to make up the difference. Mainly pizza joints. Apparently Banning liked its pizza.
The county courthouse, which was on the main drag of Washington, was quaint and lovely. A sign informed me that, every weekend during the summer, there was a farmer’s market on the sidewalks surrounding the building. In my wanderings I counted five bars, although there could have been some I missed, an ice cream shop, two hair stylists, and three car repair shops. Banning had three gas stations, two drug stores, and only one supermarket. The town also had one of the biggest liquor stores I’d ever seen. It wasn’t hard to guess what the main source of entertainment was in town: drinking yourself into a stupor.
I found a bank and opened an account there, although I kept a little bit of money in my old account. I didn’t know why. Maybe part of me still wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be returning to Rockford.
I chose the town’s McDonald’s for lunch, although I wasn’t a fan of their food. To me, everything there tasted the same, but I was craving a burger, and I figured it was a safe bet. At least I knew what I’d be getting. As I ate, I recalled filling out my employment papers as I sat staring off into space. When it came to putting down my address, I’d hesitated.
Gloria Ramsey had been sitting with me, and she saw my discomfort. Patting my hand, she said, “Just put your old address down for now. Until you find somewhere new. Or list the Raven’s Rest as your residence. It doesn’t really matter to me. Honey, you’ve got the job anyway!”
In the end I’d put down the Raven’s Rest, unable to acknowledge my previous residence with Kevin.
I’d offered to start immediately, but Gloria insisted I wait until Friday. “Take a few days to settle in. Then come in bright and early Friday morning, and I’ll have Trey show you the ropes.” She’d then rolled her eyes heavenward. “Although, truth be told, you probably should show them to him.”
The thought of working alongside the beautiful Trey, I had to admit, was a pleasing one.
I’d finished my burger and was slowly making my way through the rest of the fries. The restaurant wasn’t terribly busy, as it was nearing two o’clock. The employees outnumbered the customers two to one, and they were enjoying their downtime by joking while doing the minimum of chores.
The pretty girl manning the cash register was flirting with one of the boys, batting her eyes at him whenever she had the opportunity and blushing when he teased her. I half listened to their banter as I wondered what I was going to do with the rest of my day. In just a few hours I’d pretty much seen the entire town of Banning. I could always take my car and check out some of the neighboring towns and see what they had in store for me, or I could lounge around my room at the Raven’s Rest, watching a movie or reading.
J. K. Rowling won out. Reading it was.
Just as I was slurping up the last of my Coke, I heard the counter girl say, “Oh my. Here comes Miss Crazy.”
I followed her gaze and saw a woman coming up to the side entrance. She was middle-aged, with red hair streaked with gray. To me she looked sane enough, although she was wearing a big, bulky Christmas sweater with reindeer on it and it was only late October. Once she was inside, I also saw she had big hoop earrings and a button pinned to her sweater, a white one with black letters. The words read “The Town Witch.” With a vacant expression on her face, she approached the counter and gave her order. I smiled as I watched the counter girl. She carried out the transaction carefully, as if she was afraid a sudden movement might make the redheaded woman explode.
The woman with the pin proclaiming she was the town witch sat down at the table next to me. On her tray was a small coffee and a large order of french fries. No burger. She sat and immediately popped a fry into her mouth. As she chewed, she eyed me suspiciously. She swallowed slowly and then leaned forward.
“I know you, don’t I?”
I shook my head. “Just arrived in town yesterday.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “Nevertheless, I know you.”
Maybe the counter girl had been correct in her assessment of this woman’s mental state. “I don’t think so,” I said.
She shrugged as she ate another french fry. “Maybe not. I’m Jesenia, by the way. Jesenia Maupin.”
“That’s a lovely name. I’m Michael Cook.”
Jesenia narrowed her eyes at me. “Always Michael, isn’t it? Never Mike.”
It was true I preferred Michael, but that didn’t prove she had psychic powers. I smiled and said nothing. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to get into a conversation with this woman.
She didn’t seem deterred. “I’ve seen you before, though. Maybe not in this life. But your aura is familiar.”
I chuckled. “Hopefully it’s a nice aura.”
“It is.”
I was done with my meal, so I stood and gathered up my trash. I had to pass her table to get to the waste receptacle, so I bowed slightly and said, “It’s been good to meet you, Jesenia Maupin.”
She sipped a little coffee and motioned for me to stop. “Let me see your hand.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I need to see your hand.”
I should have kept on moving, but she intrigued me, so I set my tray down on her table and showed her my left hand.
“The right one, please.” She turned it palm upward.
“You’re a palm reader?” I asked.
“I’m many things,” she said, tapping her Town Witch pin with her free hand. She held my hand closer to her face and frowned. “Long life line. That’s good.” She ran a finger across my skin. “You’ve faced hardship. Recently. There’s a split here.”
Well, that was interesting. I didn’t put any faith in palmists or psychics or pretty much any New Age malarkey, but I had to admit she’d hit a nerve there. “What else do you see?”
“There’s love in your future. A good love, not like the one you’ve known.”
A chill ran down my spine. How could she possibly know that my relationship with Kevin wasn’t a healthy one? It couldn’t be in the lines on my palm. She had to have picked up on my body language or something. Some subtle hints my facial expression gave, or the way I stood, or whatever. Still, I hoped she was right. I immediately thought of Trey Ramsey.
“Is there a name written there?” I asked her jokingly.
The hint of a smile played on her lips. “If only it worked that way.” Her face grew grave as she examined my hand further. “There’s danger for you in the near future. Someone is going to try to kill you.”
I had been wondering when she’d wander off into the land of dramatics. I pulled my hand away. “So now I’m supposed to get scared, and you’ll offer to read your tarot cards for me or gaze into a crystal ball. For a fee, of course. And I’ll be a few dollars poorer and none the wiser. Sorry, Mrs. Maupin, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Jesenia, please. And it’s Miss Maupin, anyway. But for your information, Mr. Cook, I don’t charge for readings. Ever. It’s a gift I sometimes share with those I like, but I never profit from it. If you would like to learn more—for free—I believe that a tarot reading would be useful. Here, take my card. You may have use for it.”
She fished a business card out of her pocket and handed it to me. It was black in color with white lettering. A full moon was depicted on it, overlooking a barren landscape. Jesenia Maupin: Psychic, Palmist, Tarot Reader.
Not wanting to cause a scene, I shoved the card into my back pocket, fully intending to toss it into a trash can later. “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
“I’m not really a witch, Mr. Cook,” she said. She waved a hand toward the McDonald’s employees. “That’s just what the kids in town call me, but I’m certainly not a Wiccan. Wiccans don’t believe in the devil. I do. I know for a fact that he exists. Evil exists, and it resides here in Banning.”
Okay, creepy. I had no doubt that she was sincere, though. I didn’t get the vibe that she was a charlatan out to make a quick buck. And in a weird way, I liked her. She was strange, but she seemed genuinely concerned over my welfare, a man she’d just met minutes ago. “I have the feeling we’ll meet again, Jesenia,” I said.
“We will, Michael. May I call you Michael?” She smiled when I said yes. “I think we’re going to be friends. Keep my card with you. You’re going to need it. Don’t throw it into the trash in your room at the Raven’s Rest.”
“How did you know I was staying at the Raven’s Rest?”
Jesenia Maupin grinned. “The first word after my name on the card, Michael. Have a good day.”
Psychic. I walked out of the restaurant deep in thought, pondering my chat with Jesenia. She’d certainly been right about a few things, but they could just as easily have been good guesses. The part about someone trying to kill me was ludicrous, however. I knew practically no one in Banning, and Kevin, for all his many faults, wasn’t the killing type. Controlling, manipulative, demanding, yes, but physically dangerous? No.